A Reflection of the Past
by possumgurl
Summary: A young woman arrives at the Opera House hoping to discover the legendary Phantom’s mirror. What she does not expect to find is a portal into the past and a chance to change it forever. EC
1. Prologue

A Reflection of the Past

Prologue

(Present Day, Paris)

* * *

An elegant, young woman walked slowly through the snow-filled cemetery. The frigid breeze swept her dress around her ankles and she shivered involuntarily. She stopped abruptly at a small, stone grave marker and looked down at it solemnly. Tears clouded her eyes, rendering her unable read it, but it did not matter, she already knew what it said. 

'_Lise and Jean Renoir_

_1950-2001, 1948-2001_

_Loving parents of Natalie Renoir'_

'_Formerly _loving parents of Natalie Renoir', the woman thought. '_Formerly_. They are no longer my loving parents.'

The girl, Natalie, had lost her parents three years past in a car accident. Now, she was eighteen. She still came every day to visit, rain or shine, 'or snow', she thought.

Natalie blinked furiously and bushed her tears away. Crying wouldn't help. She looked down at the blood red roses she held her pale fingers, twined around their fresh stems, remembering why she had come. She placed them carefully in the cup at the marker's base. 'Now they are nothing more than a memory'.

Natalie pushed her black hair out of her face and began to walk back towards the cemetery's large, iron gate. She stopped when a name on one of the many other gravestones caught her eye.

'_Christine de Changy'_

Natalie drew in a sharp, cold breath and read the rest of the crumbling stone.

'_Christine de Chagny_

_Loving Wife and Mother_

_Born 1854, Died 1917'_

Natalie had heard the stories; she had heard her parents and their friends talking of this woman. Her mother had told her the story of the Phantom of the Opera and his muse. How he had loved her so, and she had left him, left him for Raoul de Chagny. Her mother had told her that some believed the story to be true, while others waved it off as fantastical nonsense. Natalie had stopped believing it long ago. She remembered wishing that Christine had chosen Erik. She had felt sorry for him. She had wept for him at night, for he had had to let go of the one person he ever loved.

Now, Natalie stood, in front of Christine Daae's gravestone, realizing that her childhood story, the one she had grown up listening to, was indeed true, for if Christine had existed, Erik would have as well, as would the Opera Populaire, the mirror…and Erik's home.

Natalie ran off as fast as she could. It was time to pay a visit to the place she had only seen in her many dreams…

* * *

A/N: Well, here it is. I've been planning it for a while now; I hope you all enjoy it!

:whips out Punjab, smiling innocently:

Hey, I saw the phantastical movie againlast night...8th time...;)...Gerry...;)


	2. Chapter One

A Reflection of the Past

Thanks goes to: **PhantomInMyDreams, DarkSarcasm, lady kathrin, Countess Alana, Number 47, erik'sangel527, MadameAngel, Mr.Pooch**

Chapter One

>

Natalie's breath caught in her throat as the Opera House came into view.

It was a magnificent piece of architecture; she couldn't for the life of her think why she had never noticed it before.

Tall columns supported the elegant building, winding up into the shadows high above her head. Natalie entered the suspiciously empty grand foyer slowly. She looked around with awe at the place she had tried so hard as a child to imagine. She felt as though she were living a dream. Everything was exactly as she had believed. Every golden statue, every painting.

Natalie sucked in a deep breath, remembering her sole purpose of coming. Though she didn't know how she would do it, she had to find that dressing room.

An hour later, Natalie was still sneaking carefully through the Opera's many hallways. Not but five minutes ago she had seen an old sign with an arrow pointing to the dressing rooms. Natalie did not expect, though, that Christine's dressing room would still be used. She continued to walk down the door-lined hallway, unsure of whether to search the rooms or not. Natalie reached the far side only to meet with a wall. It was a dead end. She sighed. She had gotten absolutely nowhere.

A soft breeze began to blow through the hallway. Natalie shivered and wondered where it had come from. She jumped as she thought she heard a soft voice in her ear.

_'It's that one!'_ The Voice hissed, Natalie turned her eyes immediately to the door in front of her. _'That's the one! Open it!'_

Natalie felt herself, as though possessed, begin to reach towards the brass doorknob. Her pale fingertips pulled back just as they touched the shiny doorknob. It was cold as ice, and sent a strange sensation through her, as though something otherworldly was involved.

She reached for it again, gripping it with her thin fingers. She didn't pull back, and felt cold seep into her. It wasn't an unwelcoming feeling, though, it made her feel…strange. It was a mysterious sensation. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door forward. It creaked loudly and Natalie flinched slightly. Carefully, she stepped into the room.

It was different from the rest of the Opera House, she knew. The air felt as though it were tangible. Somehow Natalie knew that she was in the right place.

Softly, she closed the door behind her and began to observe the room. A bit of light seeped through the dusty window, just enough to make the room look eerie. It was well furnished, but looked as though no one had been in it for years. Burgundy carpeting lay beneath her feet, sporting a layer of dust. Natalie felt as though she had stepped into the past.

She lifted her eyes and gasped at the sight before her. The ornate mirror covered most of the far wall. Natalie walked towards it slowly, her mouth gaping wide open. She raised her hand to let it rest on the mirror's cool surface. She had the same sensation as with the doorknob, only a hundred times stronger. 'This place is magical,' she thought.

She trailed her fingers slowly down the reflective glass. She shivered, though not from the cold.

Natalie lifted her hand to graze her fingertips along the mirror's magnificent frame. The gold perimeter was twined into braids and spiral designs that shone out in the small dressing room.

As Natalie's hand ran along the side of the frame, her fingers touched a spot that seemed different from the rest. She turned her head to examine it and brought her fingers to press against it softly.

Natalie's eyes widened as the mirror moved away to reveal a dark tunnel that went on farther than she could see. She could feel her heart beating mercilessly against her ribcage. After a slight period of hesitation, she took a deep breath and stepped into the dank passageway, carefully sliding the mirror closed behind her.

Without warning, the atmosphere in the tunnel changed, as though it was twisting itself into a different shape. A blinding white light flashed some hundred feet down the tunnel. Natalie felt her head begin to spin as she fell backwards, blacking out.

>

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed, it did not go unappreciated! I have most of this story planned out, but not written, and I don't know how the time in between updates will compare with my other story 'The Point of No Return', though I will try to get them out as often as possible. I am expecting this story to be longer as well. Please review; they make me tres, tres, tres happy!


	3. Chapter Two

A Reflection of the Past, Chapter Two

Thanks goes to: **erik'sangel527, laverte, DarkSarcasm, MadameAngel, GoldenLyre, mer mer, Lioness-Rampant**

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

Slowly, Natalie faded back into consciousness. She inhaled a damp breath. Gradually, her senses began to register, and, from the feel of it, she was sprawled on the cold stone floor. Her eyes flew open and widened, remembering what had happened.

The tunnel was dark and cold. She had no idea how long she had been lying there, and wondered vaguely what she was going to do now that she had found what was most likely the passage to underground lake and Erik's home.

Carefully, she brought herself to her feet, only to be overtaken by a strange wave of dizziness. Just before she blacked out again, she squinted, catching site of a luminescent white object floating before her.

* * *

This time when she came around, she was able to stand properly. She lifted herself to her feet and looked around. What had she seen?

"Hello?" She asked, feeling stupid.

She heard a rustle in the darkness and jumped.

"Hello?" She asked again, her voice wavering. She could have sworn she had heard somebody breathing. "Is anyone there?"

"Who are you?" Someone asked from the pressing darkness.

Natalie was taken aback at the tone of the man's voice. It sounded like an Angel hissing cruelly. How ironic.

"Who are you?" Natalie asked ignoring the man's question.

"That's no business of yours," the man spat. "I shall warn you, I do not take pleasure in repeating myself. Who are you?"

Natalie hesitated, but decided that it would be best to respond.

"My name is Natalie, Natalie Renoir." She responded.

"Natalie," the man whispered.

Natalie shivered at the sound of her name on his lips. That voice…

"Why are you here Mlle. Renoir? I do not recall inviting you."

"Inviting me?" Natalie asked puzzled. There was a long pause. "You don't _live _here, nobody lives here. Why would you invite me?"

A cruel laugh rang all throughout the tunnel.

"You have some nerve Mlle. Renoir." The man told her quietly. It sounded as though he was speaking directly next to her ear, but when she flipped around, there was nobody there. "You are terribly ignorant." It sounded as if he were circling her. "I live here. And, I did not invite you. Nor, in fact, did I tell you how to get here…and as I'm sure you know, it's not an easy feat."

"You _live _here?" Natalie stammered, more confused by the minute. "Who _are _you?"

There was another pause, though much longer than the first.

"Well, seeing as how you're not going to live much longer, I suppose it wouldn't hurt terribly to tell you. I am the Phantom, the Opera Ghost, Angel of Music, but most of all, I am Erik."

Natalie shivered and her eyes widened as the man identified himself.

"That's not funny." She told him. "Really, it's not."

"Most people don't find it to be," the man who believed he was Erik said, the tiniest bit of confusion evident in his voice.

"I wouldn't expect so, anyone who knows the story also knows that it took place in the nineteenth century, more than one hundred years ago."

This time when he spoke, it was clear that he was puzzled.

"What are you ranting about, this is the nineteenth century."

"Oh, that's rich. It's 2005. You can't get me with that one."

"Mlle. Renoir, you jest. Somehow I do not find it funny either, the year is 1870."

Natalie snorted. She was really beginning to get bored of this imposter man's humor.

"Oh, right. And I suppose you live here…in a house on the shore of an underground lake and drop letters to the managers while at the same time scaring the young ballet rats out of their wits. All through this you're compelling young Christine Daae with your voice, calling yourself, as you said before her_ Angel of Music_," Natalie snapped.

The man drew in a sharp breath.

"How did you know about that?" he hissed. "What do you know about Christine?"

"I know that you were in love with her. I know that she left you to be with the Vicomte. I know that she died nearly a century ago."

"What are you talking about?" He hissed. "I love her still. Christine is not dead. And she will not leave with de Chagny, I'll make sure of it."

Natalie was surprised at the man's reaction. His words were like icy daggers, each of them. She shook her head.

"Sir, I've had enough of this. I don't know who you are, or what you're doing here, but I would like to know the _truth_."

"Every word I've spoken has been the truth. It can be proven as well."

Erik frowned slowly, this girl fascinated him, she knew so much. She could be a threat, or, if she was willing, she could be a great help.

"Follow me," He ordered her as he set off down the tunnel. If she would not cooperate now, he knew how to deal with her.

* * *

A/N: Thanks all, please review! 


	4. Chapter Three

_A Reflection of the Past, Chapter Three_

When the two reached the boat and the edge of the underground lake, Natalie stopped in her tracks. How could this all still be here?

"What is it?" The man asked, though he sounded as though he didn't really care.

"No, no, it's nothing." She replied a bit dazedly.

He nodded his head and helped her into the boat.

As she was poled across the lake, all Natalie could think about was how this same path had been taken ages ago by Erik and Christine.

Natalie saw a soft glow in the distance, and her jaw dropped as His world unfolded before her.

Candles illuminated the darkness, radiating eerily off various objects resting on tables. Stacked parchment was everywhere, and she shivered when she caught sight of The organ. His organ.

The boat hit the shore and she stepped out slowly, wandering over to the organ.

It's black-lacquered surface shone and the keys looked as though they had been crafted of bone.

Natalie lifted a hand to run over its smooth surface.

She yanked her hand back as she heard a harsh growl from behind her. She whipped around to face the man, her face a mask of confusion.

"Who _are_ you?" She breathed, looking into his amber, _amber_ eyes.

"I am Erik."

She shook her head softly.

"Who am I?"

They man scoffed and pushed her lightly out of the way to reach his organ bench and take a seat.

"As you told me, Mademoiselle, your are Natalie Renoir."

Natalie nodded faintly, watching the man.

She closed her eyes as he began to play. Beautifully. The notes flowed through his fingers like water in a stream. Was it possible that all this could be true? What had happened to her?

This man sure played the part well. He lived here…He played beautifully…His voice was flawless…Just…There was just one more thing she needed to make herself believe.

Slowly, Natalie snuck up behind him, careful not to catch his attention, which, at the moment was focused completely and totally on his music. She took a deep breath and closed the last foot of space between them.

Quickly, Natalie reached up to his face to grab the porcelain half-mask, wrenching it from the man's face.

Before she could register anything, the man had whipped around fiercely, exposing his ravaged flesh.

Natalie's eyes widened as her eyes raked his face. Sickly, yellow skin was stretched over half of his face. Natalie was half-compelled to remove this mask as well, but she knew this time that it was the real thing.

In a fit of rage, the man snatched his mask from her hand and fitted it back over his deformity.

"_Damned girl, get out. Now_."


	5. Chapter Four

**From Chapter Three**

_This man sure played the part well. He lived here…He played beautifully…His voice was flawless…just…There was just one more thing she needed to make herself believe._

_Slowly, Natalie snuck up behind him, careful not to catch his attention, which, at the moment was focused completely and totally on his music. She took a deep breath and closed the last foot of space between them. _

_Quickly, Natalie reached up to grab the porcelain half-mask, wrenching it from the man's face._

_Before she could register anything, the man had whipped around fiercely, exposing his ravaged flesh._

_Natalie's eyes widened as they raked his face. Sickly, yellow skin was stretched over half of his face. Natalie was compelled to remove this mask as well, but she knew this time that it was the real thing._

_In a fit of rage, the man snatched his mask from her hand and fitted it back over his deformity._

_"Damned girl, get out. Now."_

---

**Chapter Four**

"This - " Natalie breathed faintly, "this is impossible. Where am I?"

She knelt on the ground in front of the man she was now sure was the legendary Phantom of the Opera, her face pale and her eyes astounded. She looked up into his masked face, the free half contorted with rage.

"Where am I?" She repeated, louder now, her voice trembling. "_Where am I?_" She screamed, breaking contact with those amber eyes to look at the stone floor.

Erik looked down at the obviously confused and distraught young woman before him. He took a deep breath, letting his anger be replaced with amazement.

"Mademoiselle Renoir," he began skeptically in a low voice, "you truly expect me to believe this far-fetched, to say the very least, tale you have related to me?"

"It's the truth. I swear it," Natalie whispered sincerely.

Erik frowned down at her, his mind working furiously.

"Get up."

Natalie got shakily to her feet.

"How did this happen?" She asked Erik.

His eyes bored into hers, searching for any sign of a lie. He found none.

"I don't know." He said simply, turning and walking over to a crimson settee, motioning for her to follow, and then taking a seat.

Natalie scowled and sat beside him, her confidence returning.

"You don't know? You have no idea?"

Erik felt anger welling up inside him at her tone. She expected _him_ to know how she had appeared?

"Mademoiselle," Erik began through gritted teeth, "I am not all-knowing. Now, as I recall, earlier you mentioned something about Christine…and the Vicomte." His face hardened as he uttered the last few words.

"Yes," Natalie replied, folding her arms and laying back on the settee. "It was him she chose. She married him, had his children, and died in…1917, I believe it was."

Erik growled and clenched his fist.

"This is preposterous," he muttered.

"How long have you known about the Vicomte?" Natalie asked Erik, wanting to know what part of the story she had stepped into.

"She told me about him last night, after her performance. She was absolutely giddy. It was repulsive and I told her so."

"Did you?" Natalie asked him, raising her eyebrows.

"I don't approve of him."

"Well you wouldn't, would you?"

"What the devil is that supposed to mean?" He spat.

"He's going to take her from you unless you do something about it; I would say you have a perfectly good reason not to approve of him." She explained.

"It won't happen."

"It might."

"IT WON'T!" He shouted, standing abruptly.

Natalie stared up at him in silence, her arms folded across her chest.

"I can help you," she stated simply as he glared down at her.

"Oh really," he snapped wickedly, "and how is that?"

"Well, I know the story, don't I? I know how everything's going to turn out. So now we can do everything in our power to stop her from leaving with him. I can tell you what and whatnot to do; I can help you make decisions."

Erik's mind worked furiously. Here was this strange girl from the future, asking to _help _him. It was ridiculous, and yet, if she was right, Christine could be his.

"And the Vicomte?" Erik asked.

"What about him?"

"How will we keep him from sticking his nose - or anything else for that matter," he added nastily, "- where it doesn't belong."

"I will do my best," Natalie offered, "to keep him away from Christine."

There was a pause, and then:

"If you ever stray from me or turn out to be pretending, I swear to you I will snap your neck and hang you up from the rafters for all the world to see," he vowed, his voice cold.

"…Deal."

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_Congratulations go out to our beloved Phantom for being the longest-running musical on Broadway!_

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